Book of Mormon

Yesterday I attended my ninth religious service (only one more to go!) for challenge no. 29. This time I paid a visit to the Mormons at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Harlem.

I'm going to let this Wikipedia article do the heavy lifting of explaining Mormonism, if you're interested or in some sort of emergency boredom situation.

And by the way, because I know you're curious, it was EXACTLY like the Book of Mormon on Broadway. Except there were no dance numbers, no references to Africa (or Orlando), no laughing, no plot twists, and no complete and utter disregard for the sacredness of the religion. Also I wasn't mildly drunk.

After tossing my coffee in the trash a block away from the church, I showed up at 1:00 for the YSA or "Young Single Adult" service (a friend from work attends, so I opted to join her). The structure of the service was pretty expected: hymn, invocation, sacrament, hymn, speakers, hymn.

Instead of some sort of preacher, there were three "speakers" (a young woman, a young man, and an older gentleman who serves on the High Council) who addressed the attendees on the day's topic: the importance of family. Appropriate topic, as most of the young brothers and sisters listening were probably dating or thinking of dating and having to come to terms with a lot of the Mormon rules when it comes to dating or thinking of dating.

Each speech was very personal. They spoke of their backgrounds, relayed childhood anecdotes, and cried. The third speaker gave the most sermon-esque address, telling the young and single members of the church that it is their duty as Mormons to uphold the family as the foundation and core of the church. Go find a mate, create Mormon babies, and pray together as a family. Oh, and engage in wholesome activities, like camping. This will keep the Mormon religion alive and thriving.

Mild sarcasm aside, I did take some very positive messages away from the experience:

The third speaker (who, by the way, had a very interesting story of being born in a hippie commune and then adopted by Mormons) asked, "Think of your happiest memory. Were you with family?" I realized that most of my happiest times have indeed involved family.

Then he said, "If you love someone, tell them frequently and sincerely that you love them."

I left dripping with gratefulness that I have such an amazing family (and future family). Seriously, they are incredible. So to my family (yes, even you McBrides): I love you.

Ab-uh-sin-ee-an

This past Sunday I attended my 7th religious service for challenge no. 29: Abyssinian Baptist Church in the heart of Harlem. It just might be one of my favorites.

Abyssinian (which I can now finally pronounce) was founded in 1808 and has a powerful lineage and palpable pride emanating from its members, who will describe themselves as a "fourth generation Abyssinian" or "descendant of (famous member)."

I had been putting this particular service off because I knew there was always a line to get in (it's considered a major tourist attraction). I showed up around 9:00 and there was already a line for the 11:00 service. Abyssinian lets its members fill the church and then gives the remaining seats to the visitors. The rules were made clear: No flip-flops, no bare shoulders, no sports attire, no pictures on the inside, and no leaving before its over. I witnessed many angry camera-toting tourists being turned away. 

The gospel music was, of course, amazing. No surprises there. That's one of the main reasons for the line wrapped around the block two hours before the service.

On this particular morning the church was observing Pastor's Memorial Sunday, honoring the former pastors of the church, who reigned like kings in their tenure and are still the most highly regarded aspect of the church, with the exception of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. The sermon was delivered by a guest Reverend, Sharon Williams.

Rev. Williams was electric, booming, her arms working in sync with her voice, punctuating those particularly passionate points. I was captivated by her. She commanded that room with her presence, her humor (she was damn funny), her honesty. No word passed through her lips that she didn't believe in with every ounce of her being.

Her sermon revolved around the idea of AUTHORITY:

It is the nature of authority which makes it a matter of contention because people want to fight over who has it. Authority is not power. Authority is the right to USE power. When Jesus came and started healing and performing miracles, the question was not whether he COULD do those things but who AUTHORIZED him to do those things. Who gave him the right to use such power?

Well, God. Obviously.

The authority in which Jesus stands is the mark of the nails on his resurrected body. The authority in which Christians stand is the mark of the nails on our resurrected bodies. A Christian stands in authority to comfort those afflicted by sin and afflict those comfortable with sin.

Near the end of the sermon, she said this: I AM NOT SCARED OF ANYTHING ANYMORE.

As I wallowed in the silence that followed, I realize that this statement was one of the most powerful statements I've ever heard. I've never heard anyone say those words and mean it more than Rev. Williams meant it. Can you imagine the freedom she must feel, not being afraid? It radiated from her. I was all the way up in the balcony and I could see it in her expression.

And at that moment she inspired me to somehow remove all the fear from my life. Now I just have to figure out how.